Gestating the bonus baby

When I first heard a year ago that friends of ours were expecting a surprise baby long after they thought they were done, I actually said the word suckers. I teased my friend about not blowing up the condom like a balloon before relying on it.

Then I found out I was pregnant with a surprise third, and the word sucker haunted me. At the time, my mind was still reeling from serious depression, as recounted here in my post, How to go crazy in 6 months or less. Just when I felt like I was getting a grip, a little pee stick turned up with a f*cking plus sign and my house of cards came crashing down. I felt like I couldn’t breathe for a few months, I was having panic attack after panic attack, sure that my life and my kids are going to be so f*cked up because I made this mistake of relying on just one form of contraception.

Years ago, I had decided that any more than two children would be too many for me. My identity rested in having precisely two kids and I didn’t know how to change that.

Having three children felt so big, so looming, and I couldn’t wrap my head around what that meant for me. My clothes wouldn’t fit for another year (or two). I would fill a sedan to the brim – or surrender and get the dreaded minivan. I might need those damn leashes for my kids like my mom used.

I felt like I was gestating a grenade.

I struggled with a new breed of depression and anxiety throughout the pregnancy. And as a stats junkie, I knew that my baby would experience the negative effects of my stress, but knowing that stressed me out even more.

But one month ago Little Lucinda made it. I made it. (My therapist deserves most of the credit.)

And you know, it’s not as crazy as I expected. My clothes aren’t that far from fitting. I now look longingly at minivans. And I’m shopping on Amazon for wrist leashes for wild card kids.

Having a baby is still a miraculous thing, even when it’s the surprise pregnancy. I got through it, kicking and screaming, and Lucinda did too. This bonus baby felt like someone played a joke on me. I now get the humor.

Advertisements

How to go crazy in 6 months or less

Here’s how I drove myself up the wall:

1) Purchase a sweet little house while whole-heartedly trusting the sellers, their realtor, your realtor, all without good cause.

IS1ts5awgu6b9gj

2) Discover major problems in the house and immediately set to fixing those problems.

IMG_3370

3) Act as your own general contractor while your husband is off whistling to work everyday.

4) Maintain unreasonably high standards considering your budget, your timeframe, and your do-it-yourself skills.

galeries197x227

5) Make sure to schedule the construction during the cold, dark winter months when you annually suffer from seasonal depression, which I can’t even begin to explain except by directing you to Hyperbole and a Half’s Adventures in Depression.

sad8alt7

Illustration copyright Hyperbole and a Half.

6) Throw in a broken condom.

Fool-proof recipe for creating a f*cking mad house. But it’s pretty much settled now so don’t call CPS. Birds are chirping, tile is laid, kids don’t have to try to cheer up a crying mother.